


No Longer Crazy

by RIPhimiko



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Depression, Family, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2019-11-01 18:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17872091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RIPhimiko/pseuds/RIPhimiko
Summary: Certain things hurt.They can't be waved off by a red hot smirk and a crappy joke.And they open up very painful old wounds.Maybe some things are just meant to be forgotten.





	1. Nell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dante remembers Nell.

Dante was already walking off from the others, until that mechanic girl stepped in front of him.

"Whoa! You... are the infamous Dante!" He could already tell she was shaking in her (very nice) cowboy boots. Though his solid blank expression didn't show that much. She cleared her throat before continuing. "Um, I'm... Nicoletta G-Goldstein! Sound familiar?" She held out her hand with a shakey smile.

The half demon slowly raised his own hand and Nicoletta was quick to take in and shake it firmly. She giggled nervously, continuing on. Her stuttering and excitement rather reminded him of someone back then in Fortuna. Though he didn't dwell too much on it.

“Um, my grandmother is-is Nell Goldstein! T-The gunsmith that made all your fancy weapons that you got... strapped back there?" 

Now that name hurt to hear. The surname was painful enough, but the first name was the icing on the pain train cake. He tried to ignore it as he realized what the girl was talking about as he reached for his twin guns.

"Yeah, there she is!" Nicoletta let out excitedly. 

The name rang in his head over and over like a church bell. Nico’s words muffled out as Dante stared at Ebony and Ivory. His ice cold blue eyes went distant as they visually pressed onto the engravings on the side of the pistols.

 **For Tony Redgrave**  
**By .45 Art Warks**

 

* * *

 

 

Tony Redgrave kicked open the wooden door to the gunshop, causing the wall it collided into to crumble even further. “Mornin’ Nell.” He greeted casually, arms too preoccupied carrying a bulk of firearms. He knew it was night, but he knows the woman wasn't aware of that with being cooped up in her shop entire days.

Nell Goldstein didn’t bother looking up from her work desk, the woman was hard at work taking apart an entire automatic rifle. “Ya stinkin’ brat. Break my door down few more times an’ you can kiss any more guns from me goodbye, ya hear Tony?” She hissed in her Southern drawl.

“Ah whatever, old lady.” The younger man was quick to dismiss her as he dropped off the load of guns onto another work desk. “Fresh off the presses.” He said with a smirk, eagerly awaiting for the woman to take a look at the goodies he brought her.

Nell finished up the last bits of her work and finally looked up, adjusting her spectacles. It was a rather large mess the kid brought back that’s for sure, but more pieces for her to play around with. She always wondered how he was able to quietly pass through the streets lugging around so much firepower, but she dismissed the thought as she wiped her hands up with a dirtied rag and got up from her seat.

“And how’s the pistols I made fer ya?” The gunsmith asked the mercenary as she walked around the desk to give the guns a look herself. “They hold up any better?”

This part was always the hardest part of the visit. Tony’s mouth morphed into an awkward grin as he reached behind him and pulled out two handguns. Their slides were snapped off and the triggers were somehow missing. That was all Nell had to see for her to grab the nearest rifle and shove its wooden stock into the kid’s gut. He groaned at the hit, but she could tell it didn’t hurt him one bit. What hurt more for him was more his pride as well as having to hear more nagging from the woman.

“There ya go again, breakin’ all my masterpieces I make jus’ fer you!” She scolded him as if he was her own child. His grin dropped at that, along with his blue eyes. She frowned at the sight and sighed, setting down the rifle and holding out her hands. “Give it here.”

Tony didn’t meet her eyes but he handed over the pistols to the older woman. “Sorry. Guess I just got too carried away.” He tried to say. He didn't want to admit to her or himself that the  _other_ part of him made him far more stronger and faster than anyone else in his line of work. So he felt guilty breaking the woman's weapons, something he'll never fully show her until the day he dies.

Nell could see the boy brewing in his own feelings, she could always pick that up about him. She sighed and began speaking. “Ain’t no need to apologize, boy. You treatin’ these handguns like they’re machine guns. They ain’t made for rapid fire, y’know.”” She explained, scanning damage done to the pistols as she sauntered off to her work desk. 

“Bigger guns are way too inconvenient to lug around. I’d rather stick with the pistols.” Tony tried to protest, following her to her desk.

The gunsmith set the two pistols down on the desk and held a light over them. Easy fixes, parts can be replaced and she could use some of the stuff in Tony’s pile to make them even stronger. She looked up at him, he still looked a bit down. With a flick of her finger to his forehead and a smile on her lips, she tried to pick his mood up back once more. “No worries, kiddo. I’ll fix ‘em up fer ya.”

Tony held his hand over his forehead, but he finally met the woman’s gaze and smiled back. “Thanks, old lady.” He was grateful, he always was. 

Nell went to work almost immediately. She didn’t shoo Tony away, she never did. She knew someone as young as him didn’t have a mother or father to come home to, especially if he was in this line of work. She sometimes would look up to see him awkwardly fumbling to put together some guns himself, or digging around in her fridge. She would always stop what she was doing and go over to him, quickly showing him what part goes where for a gun, or fixing up something quick for him to snack on while he waited. Despite their bickering and rudeness to each other, there were always these calm and quiet moments that spoke so much louder that any amount of insult or gunfire could ever hope to silence.

Tony never showed it but he always appreciated it when Nell would take the time out of her work to spend some with him. He wouldn't know a damn thing about guns or making a killer omelette if it wasn't for her. All he knew before was to not to aim the barrel of the gun to your face and to eat junk food. He poked fun at her, joking that she should get back to work and she was always ready with a witty response back. But she never did go back until both of them finished whatever they were doing together. 

Eventually hours passed and the gunsmith finished, she handed over the pistols to the mercenary and sent him on his way. She would always open the door for him, scold him for keeping his hair too long or wasting so much ammo, then pat him on his back as he walked off to another mission.

Nell would keep watch of Tony until he disappeared into the crowd until she went back inside. She sighed as she slumped back on her chair. Being away from her own family so much made her realize how much she ended up babying that white haired boy instead to make up for the time. She didn’t feel that guilty, for she really did see the boy as her own son. And if he saw her as a mother, then that’d make her all the happier.

She smiled as she pulled up some blueprints from under her desk, a spot where Tony’s curious self could have never found it. They were massive twin handguns, heavily modified M1911 handguns with chambers for the .45 ACP round, her favorite type. One was made for rapid fire, the other was made for long distance. Both traits she knew that crazy boy enjoyed pulling off with whatever gun he laid his hands on. She knew Tony would fall in love with them once they were finished.

Nell however, never got to see the boy in action with her masterpiece. She pushed the case full of the separated parts of now final masterpiece to his chest as her head rested on his legs, coughing up blood. Demons followed Tony to their shop, after catching wind of the one providing a well skilled hunter with their means of constant defeat. They ambushed Nell when he wasn’t around and by the time he had arrived, it was far too late.

Tony held Nell in his arms, the case he was given didn’t register one bit to him. The shop was burning down, guns scattered everywhere and corpses of bullet riddled demons lay around the floorboards. “Nell, I’m going to get you out of here. Just hold on!” He tried to pick her up, but she refused to budge, shifting her own weight down to keep herself there.

_Not again. Please, no. I already lost Mom and Vergil. I can't do this again. I can't be alone again. Please._

The slash in her stomach was deep, far too deep. She cursed herself somewhat, perhaps if she was younger she would’ve atleast put up some fight against the demons. But she remembered just how much age has truly gotten to her. She held her hand on Tony’s cheek, patting it softly. “You know me, boy. I ain’t never lie to you… I think this is it fer me.” She tried to comfort him with hard truth, like she always have before.

Tears burst past Tony’s eyes and streamed down his pale, bloody cheeks. He knew she was right but it didn't stop him from struggling. “No… No! I can’t. Please, don’t go… I can’t lose another…” He held her closer, hoping and begging to whatever higher power his wishes would grant him some miracle.

He felt the woman’s hand, as rough as her overworked hands were, wiped his tears away with the most gentle movement and touch.

“I’m sorry… son...”

Tony watched as Nell’s eyes lose their light. He felt her hand fall from his cheek. She was gone.

He let out one final scream as the flaming roof began to collapse down on him.

**...**

In a rainy graveyard, Tony watched from afar as Nell’s casket was placed into the grave by her family. The youngest of them all, a granddaughter, wept the most. He couldn’t bare to look anymore and he turned around, walking as fast as he could away from the sight.

“Son.” He heard a voice call to him, but it was a man’s voice. But for one moment, he thought it was her voice. She called him that all the time, after all.

“Nell was a good woman.” Morrison spoke smoothly, cautiously approaching Tony. “I'm still glad both of you eventually got along swimmingly after I first introduced you to her.”

Tony didn’t bother turning around to face his informant. His gloved fists balled up tight, one hand still holding onto the case Nell gave him. “She’s more than just a good woman. She was like another mother to me.”

“I know, son.” The older man agreed. “But if she was here, right now, what would she be telling you?”

The mercenary could barely see past his drenched white bangs. He thought if he squinted hard enough, he could see her standing right before him. Her dirty blonde mop with the details of grey hairs. The grease covered orange button up. The rough hands of a hard working woman. The many soft lines dotting her older face and smug smile. “She would tell me… to stop moping and get to working.” He began slowly, with a shiver in between. “To put her masterpieces out there for the world to see and show them off to put her legend out there.”

“And what you got in your hands right now.” Morrison pointed out, his brown eyes eyeing the case. “I reckon that’s her final masterpiece.”

“It is…” Tony held up the case. He hasn’t opened it ever since Nell’s death, but he always had it on his person. A sort of comfort blanket he was too afraid of releasing in fear of pain. That fear settled down as he continued to imagine Nell’s hand hovering over his.

 _It’s my gift from me to you, Tony._ He heard her voice in his head as the case clicked open.

Two disassembled twin handguns, one black and one silver. They were named  **Ebony & Ivory**respectively. Both were beautifully crafted and had to be Nell’s finest work yet. The gold details over the black and silver, the wooden handles, the weight of them, every ounce of these handguns felt like modern art. His blue eyes scanned over them, his previous empty frown couldn’t help but slowly forming into a melancholic smile. He caught sight of the engravings especially, a final message from Nell.

 **For Tony Redgrave**  
**By .45 Art Warks**

“Ah...” Tony didn’t even feel the tears from the rain soaking his face so much. He looked up to the sky, his grin returning in full force. “I won’t let you down, old lady."

* * *

 

Dante looked up at the girl, Nicoletta. The previous thought of her reminding him of that whoever back in Fortuna was cast aside. She reminds him completely of Nell now.

He finally let off a small grin. "Hmm, you don't much look like her." He half lied as he stowed his twin pistols away. 

Nicoletta presented a cowboy hat and it was then the half demon found the perfect opportunity to completely act a fool to push away the past just for a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a look into dante's past and true feelings. this shall be continued with more characters.


	2. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dante remembers his family.

Dante laid with his eyes at rest, hearing Patty ramble on about something he tried to block out as hard as he could. Though her rant eventually made its way to him once she had mentioned a certain something that nearly made the blood in the half demon’s veins go cold.

“Like me… they just want to see their mothers and fathers! More than anything!” The little girl stopped herself after realizing how her volume had increased. She wiped her tears with her sleeves, turning away from the man hired on to be her bodyguard. “You’re probably just going to laugh at me…”

“Nope.” Dante denied rather casually, catching the girl off guard. His heart had practically stopped beating, but he had to hold fast. He couldn’t let this kid see him cry.

“Everyone wants to see their parents.” He finished off, still with that false bravado. His eyes remained closed and the memories drifted back to him once more.

* * *

 

Dante could barely suppress his laughter. Hearing Mom and Dad call out for him, checking around cabinets and behind curtains. It was made even worse with the fact Vergil somehow didn’t make a single noise, he almost forgot he was even there. Dante finally figured out why he could never find Vergil, for he could actually keep quiet and he knew the best hiding spots.

Unfortunately for Vergil, Dante was with him and with enough snickering they were eventually found. A broom lightly stuck both of them in their small chests, from Mom herself. “There you boys are! Hiding on the ceiling, how sneaky of you both!” Eva said with a soft, humorous tone.

“Only toddlers and they figured out most beings don’t bother looking above them.” Sparda noted, amused, as he climbed atop the kitchen counter carefully. He then raised both of his arms up, ready for the twins to drop into them. “On the count to three…”

Sparda counted down, Dante and Vergil looked at one another in excitement, and once their father finished they released their magic and dropped into his arms.

The demon, appearing as a handsome human with slicked back white hair, a monocle and a fine purple suit, laughed heartily as he caught his boys. “Now where did you two even learn such magic? You haven’t been raiding your father’s library, right?”

“Not me! But Vergil was!” Dante pointed out innocently, earning a side eye and a pout from his twin brother.

“Dante kept asking and asking how I was so good at hide and seek.” Vergil said flatly. “I’m sorry, father.”

“None of that now.” Sparda began, letting both boys down gently. “Do not apologize, you are both growing boys and it was only a matter of time before you learned the abilities you will gain once you get older.” He patted both of their white haired heads, they seemed satisfied with his words.

Eva, her long blonde hair and flowing red robe over her beautiful black dress, crouched down to eye level of the twins. She was hiding something behind her back. “Boys, you know why we were so intent on looking for you?”

“Iono, why’s that?” Dante asked with a tilt of his head. Vergil tried to peak around his mother but she was quick enough to catch him and move her body just a tiny bit.

“Because of this!” She brought both of her arms around in full view, showing she was holding up two large sundaes in fancy glasses. One was vanilla with red pink swirls, decorated with strawberries. The other was vanilla with brown black swirls, decorated with bits of a chocolate bar. “Me and your father worked very hard on these, but we figured with you both doing so well in school you deserve a reward!”

Dante and Vergil’s faces glew brighter than the sun. Strawberry and chocolate, their respective favorites.

“Thank you, mom and dad!” Dante eagerly said, making grabbing motions to his strawberry dessert.

“Thank you, father and mother.” Vergil said as well, with a more calm tone. Which didn’t hide his excitement drawn all over his eyes towards his chocolate dessert.

Sparda picked up the boys once more and guided them to the kitchen table, and atop their chairs. With a smile he presented both of them their favorite red and blue spoons as Eva set the treats in front of them. The parents smiled together watching the boys have at the desserts.

Dante practically attacked the strawberry sundae, spilling all sorts of ice cream and strawberry pieces all around. Eva let out an exhale and wiped his messy mouth, and was promptly returned with earning a strawberry near her mouth from her son. She happily took a bite of the treat Dante offered her and smiled brightly at him.

Vergil was cool and collected, taking piece by piece of the chocolate sundae with intricacy. Sparda wondered why such a young boy carefully analyzed every single thing possible, even an amazing treat such as that. Then again, he remembered he was the same way back then… he chuckled to himself, then realized Vergil was holding out a bit of chocolate for him. The father ruffled his son’s hair and accepted the piece, tossing it in his mouth with stylish accuracy.

The younger of the twins could have never been happier as he looked around at his family.

* * *

 

The memory ended and Dante found himself back to the present, eyes still closed and seeing nothing but darkness now. Patty had already fallen asleep. He was alone in his thoughts again, like he always was.

_I miss you all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just beat dmc5 and im crying


	3. Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dante remembers a friend.

Dante entrusted the kid, Nero, with Yamato. The same sword that had belonged to his twin brother Vergil, something he was so intent on reclaiming as it was the last remnants of his memory. It hurt, it truly hurt to just give Yamato off like that. But he knew the truth and he held fast.

Vergil’s son should carry on the legacy of Yamato.

He didn’t want to tell Nero. Maybe another time, or perhaps never. It was too painful.

He was already walking off, trying to wave off the stabbing in his heart. That was, until the kid spoke up again.

“Hey Dante!” Nero called, the older devil hunter didn’t stop walking though. “Will we meet again?”

Will we meet again, huh. His ice blue eyes went distant. All he could muster was a half hearted hand signal to the kid and he continued walking down. Trish and Lady were waiting for him, but perhaps he should take a detour.

He took a turn and continued down the quiet streets of the castle town. The words Nero asked him danced around his mind like those disgusting Nobody demons. If only it was that easy to meet up with friends again.

Back then he called himself Tony Redgrave. He had completely shunned off his demon side and took on mercenary work to find the devils responsible for his mother and brother’s deaths. He was lonelier back then, despite knowing plenty of people, no one truly understood how he worked. Until he had met a fellow mercenary who had just as bad of a piece from the shit end of the stick as he did.

* * *

 

Tony wasn’t even of drinking age, but here he sat in Bobby’s Cellar with hard liquor in his glass. The bartender, who was nicknamed Wheezy, poured him another glass regrettably.

“It’s one of those days, huh kid?” Wheezy asked, pushing up his large black framed glasses after setting the emptied bottle down.

Tony didn’t respond, but his eyes were all that was needed for an answer. He downed the drink and felt the burn spread throughout his throat and chest.

“Well, if you’re gonna stick around I gotta grab another bottle from the back. It’ll only be a sec.” Wheezy set down a bar rag and walked off towards the backdoor, disappearing from view.

There was not a single soul in the bar, even the usual mercs Tony were slightly familiar with weren’t around. Wheezy never brought it up, but Tony didn’t feel like asking. Even Morrison was missing, but a busy working man like him is understandably always late or never around. Just as he thought this, the bell rung and the door open behind him. Tony turned his head back to see a strange figure wearing a gasmask. Upon coming closer it turned out to be another man unapologetically armed to the teeth like he was. Even dressed in the same colors, red and black.

“Wheezy, you’ll never guess what I found! Actually don’t guess, because I think it’s better off for everyone that no one ever saw it.” He slumped into a stool just a couple spaces away from Tony, who was still watching him carefully.

“Jeez I never thought I’d have to hear that grating voice ever again after that mission you accepted.” Wheezy poked his head out from the door, carrying a couple new bottles under his arm.

The gasmasked man chuckled. “Unfortunately for you, my singing voice is only getting better.” He said and began to lightly cough, pounding at his chest with his fist.

“You need a Blow Job.” The bartender grunted with a shake of his head.

“Yes I do need a blowjob, but I’d rather have a Blow Job.” He removed his gasmask, revealing a young man with short brown hair. He wasn't as young as Tony, just a bit older, but still a bit baby faced. Said shot was slid towards him, topped off with icing and he downed it in a second. “Thanks dad.”

“Whatever.” Wheezy went over to where Tony was and refilled his glass with more whiskey, then proceeded off to the back once more.

“Haven’t seen you in here before.” The brown haired man noted towards Tony. “Though I think I’d have to be drinking heavily like you to miss that glorious white mane!”

“Shut it. I’m not a fan of anyone else who talks more than me.” Tony grumbled and sipped his drink.

“Hey, me neither! But that’s called self hatred.” The man scooted over to Tony’s dismay and practically bumped shoulders with him. “Call me Winston. I’m new around these parts, but I know the virgin barkeep there so he suggested this spot for me. Jobs are pretty decent, don’t ya think?”

“Whatever keeps food on the table, Winston.” Tony agreed passively. He knew he only took on jobs that involved demons and he had not a care on how much they paid. “I’m Tony.”

“Oh yeah, I know. I mean, most guns here know who you are and I just got told to _‘stay away from that weirdo kid that only takes the bloodiest jobs._ ’” Winston noted, catching more of Tony’s attention now. “And I gotta say, do they not know what sort of industry they’re in? It’s like saying you hate saving people if you’re a doctor, or hate having sex if you’re Wheezy..”

Tony shook his head and this time downed the rest of his drink. “That so? Let ‘em talk, who cares.” He knew fully well how unpopular he was in the underground mercenary community, it only motivated him to take on more jobs and earn more cash the cowards were too afraid to take. Though he was slightly amused how this single man did not care about the rumors.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Winston smirked and took one of the whiskey bottles Wheezy left and opened it up, refilling Tony’s drink and then downing a shot himself straight from the bottle. “I’m sure I don’t gotta tell you to not worry about those creeps, since you look pretty confident in that already.” He chuckled and then coughed again.

“Can’t handle your liquor?” Tony asked, a grin finally cracking on his face for the first time in tonight.

“My liver is nonexistent at this point, it’s just my lungs.” Winston admitted, pounding on his chest a few more times. “It’s why I wear that, doctors told me it helps.” He held up the red colored gasmask to show Tony, who analyzed it with his ice cold eyes.

Before he could say anything, the man continued on. “Listen kid, I know it must be fun and all to be bathing in the blood of your enemies and getting all sorts of STDs, but hear me out.” He took a swig of the bottle and set it down. “In this business, you need to find a happy balance. It’s not all about taking ass and kicking names. It’s about… the people, I guess.”

“The people? The hell did the people ever do for me?” Tony scoffed with a shake of his head.

“Not these gun-toting losers we have to call our "co-workers," no. But the _people_. Who’s involved in missions? The hunter, the hunted and the third party. The third party are those we help and like it or not, we help a lot more people than you think with these jobs. You just gotta see for yourself.” Winston continued on.

Tony listened in, he never really paid attention to that third party. If there were civilians involved, he always ignored them or pushed them away so he could do his dirty work. But that was a rarity with demons involved, the bastards usually left no witnesses. Tony already had a hard enough time interacting with his fellow hunters, but what good would normal humans offer him aside from the very select few he already knew like Morrison?

“Alright, I’d say I made a good deal of cash today. How ‘bout we go for pizza? My treat?” Winston offered to the younger merc, who’s attention was fully caught now.

“... Why the hell not.” Tony shrugged and finished the glass. Both in response to the pizza offer and the ‘seeing people’ part. He left his share of money on the bar for Wheezy to accept and the older merc did the same.

“Bye Wheezy, if we don’t come back assume we died horribly! Wish you were there!” Winston called out as he opened the door for Tony and they both left Bobby’s Cellar together.

**...**

Tony stood right beside Winston as they faced the door of a shabby pizzeria. “Watch and learn, kid.” The older merc noted casually and suddenly began to screech and pound at the door like a madman.

The door was quickly opened but Winston continued to swing at it, ending up hitting the poor sap behind said door square in the nose. Tony couldn’t help but snicker.

“Ow! What the hell do you guys want?!” The pimply faced teenager shouted, holding the bridge of his aching nose.

“Pizza time.” Winston said with a goofy smile.

Tony glanced down at the kid’s name tag, it read Dylan. He was about his age, with Winston only being a couple years older than the both of them. Pimple covered pale face like noted before and shaggy, curly blonde hair that looked greasy, with unplucked eyebrows and a disgruntled expression.

“We close in 15 minutes, make it quick.” Dylan scoffed and allowed the two mercs in. From the looks of it he was the only one working.

“What kind do you like? Because whatever gives you such luscious hair I want some too.” Winston prodded to Tony, who rolled his eyes.

“It’s called genetics, look it up.”

“Genitals pizza? Gross.” Winston gagged then looked over at the lone pizza worker. “Hey pizza face! Give us a supreme pizza, stuffed crust with no olives!”

Tony raised one silver brow at his fellow merc, but he couldn’t deny his taste was pretty close to his. “Finally, someone who doesn’t like olives.”

“Olives remind me of very bad middle school memories. Don’t ask.” Winston gestured over to a lone table and the two sat across from each other.

In about 14 minutes, the pizza was ready and boxed up and delivered to the two. “Here, now pay up so I can close this place already.” Dylan grumbled, carelessly dropping the box on their table.

“How much we owe you?” Tony asked as he took a peak of inside the box to see if the goods weren’t too hurt by the fall.

“Fourty-five bucks, plus tip.” The pizza kid instantly responded curtly as he gestured his hand out, awaiting his payment.

“Fourty-five?” Tony went wide eyed. “What kind of place you running here, because I sure as hell don’t see any treadmills.”

Winston clicked his tongue, he seemed awfully calm. “Ah, that’s my favorite number. Good foreshadowing. Too bad we aren’t here for the pizza, uh…” He scanned the kid and saw his name tag as well. “"Dee-lan." We’re here for _you_.”

“For me? The hell you talking about--” Before he could even finish a handgun was drawn and pressed against his nose. “Whoa whoa whoa, man I was just joking! It’s only fifteen dollars, don’t shoot me over a little joke!”

Tony almost brandished his own pistol too, but Winston quickly glanced at him and nodded.

“Are there olives on this?” Winston asked before anything else.

“N-No, there aren’t any I swear!” Dylan, his hands held up in fear. “Dude, please just let me go it was just a joke!”

“Do you know what else was supposedly just a joke, Dih-lon?” Winston continued to question as he got up from his seat, one hand on his firearm and one hand attempting to open the pizza box for a slice. Tony shook his head and opened up the box, allowing Winston to grab a slice. “Stalking and threatening a girl because she won’t go out with you.”

“W-What…?” Dylan was met with a pistol barrel smacking his already injured nose again and he let out a yelp of pain.

“Did that hurt, Dolan?” Winston further prodded, his goofy happy go lucky tone from before was replaced with something much more sinister. “Threats hurt too, but not as much as a bullet between your eyes.” He handed the slice he got from the box towards the teenager, who reached out for it in return. Only for Winston to drop it on the floor seconds from reaching it. “What’s her name?”

“I… I… don’t--” He let out another scream as Winston stomped hard on his knee. “It’s Teresa! Her name’s Teresa!”

“That’s right Doofan.” The mercenary nodded. “Little Teresa isn’t made of money, but fortunately for her.” He nodded over to Tony. “Me and my buddy here have got soft spots. So, are we gonna do this the easy way or the hard way?”

“Please I just--”

“Okay, hard way.” He lifted up his foot again to ready another stomp but Dylan begged him to stop halfway.

“Okay, I did it! I stalked and threatened Teresa because she didn’t wanna go out with me! Please, just let me go!” Dylan cried out with salty tears running his acne scarred cheeks.

Tony could only sit and watch while munching on his slice. He never dealt with jobs related to other humans, only demons. But Winston had it completely covered from the looks of it.

Winston pressed his handgun’s barrel into Dylan’s forehead again. “We will. But we have two things we need from you first. One: leave Teresa alone. If you look in her general direction again and we will know. We will find you and we will make you squeal like a viking opera ran by squirrels. Then two…” Winston held up the slice he had dropped on the floor. “Can we get this again with stuffed crust, I asked for that earlier but it’s missing. Sorry.”

There was a beat of silence as the slice was dropped again on Dylan’s face with a squishy splat noise.

**...**

“What the hell was the point of that all, exactly?” Tony asked as he and Winston, several pizza boxes in hand. walked down towards a busy skate park bustling with all sorts of riders,

“You’ll see, kid.” Winston said as he scanned the crowds, as if he were looking for someone. He coughed a bit and pointed forwards, “There. See that group of girls?”

Tony looked to where the other mercenary was pointing and indeed he saw the girls, they were about his age or younger. Laughing together while having some sort of conversation.

“Girl with the black ambiguous band shirt, raccoon eyeliner, whole punk look, is Teresa. Go up to her and show her what we did.” Winston said with a nod as he shoved the pizza boxes in his arms. Tony looked over at the older man with a bit of a confused expression. “Don’t worry, man I got your back. Just go.”

Tony groaned and stepped forward. The girls he approached noticed him and smiled to one another, as he made a smile back. “Teresa.” He called out, the girl was pretty surprised he knew her name and she looked at him expectantly.

“Yeah?” She answered, blinking once.

Winston stepped up next to Tony and nodded, signalling Tony to toss the pizza boxes towards the girls. The one on top opened up and revealed a couple polaroids of Dylan held at gunpoint and tied up. “We talked to the brat, he’s very sorry.” Tony noted.

“No way…” Teresa said to herself as she gingerly picked up one of the photos, while her friends excitedly grabbed a handful. “You guys actually did it…”

“Nah, just him.” Winston pointed a thumb to his partner. “Kid’s a pro, you should’ve seen that pizza faced loser whine and cry when he was outed!”

The punk girl set down one of the photos and ran up to Tony, pulling him into a tight hug. “Thank you! I was so scared of him, but I can sleep better at night now knowing you taught him a lesson.”

Now this was something Tony did not expect. So much so, his arms twitched in place and he was speechless, unsure how to exactly respond to being embraced like this. The last time someone ever hugged him like this was his own mother, before she…

He quickly pushed the thought of his head and gently placed one arm around the girl. His blue eyes shifted over to Winston, who was giving him two thumbs up. That smug grin on the older merc’s face just practically says _‘I told you so.’_ And perhaps this was it, the third party. The people you help. Tony never knew how this really was until now and he figured maybe… maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

Teresa broke off from Tony, her tanned skin slightly blushing from realizing how long she kept that hug.

“Don’t mention it. We’re always around to help.” Tony said off the cuff, still not exactly sure how to respond.

“C’mon Tony. Let’s get outta here before I pull out my ice skates, show these cats how it’s really done.” Winston chuckled, looking around at all the skaters. Tony nodded and the two walked off.

“Hey!” Teresa called out one more time towards Tony, he stopped in his tracks and turned around. “You’re my hero.”

Tony’s mouth opened, once again unable to let out anything. What he could do was crack a red hot smirk instead and did a two fingered wave at the girl before continuing down the road. Winston playfully shoved his shoulder and Tony did the same in return, both of them sharing a laugh together.

**...**

Tony was a bit more revered in the eyes of the people after that night, thanks to Winston. With the lesson learned, Tony began to take on more jobs than the usual. Aside from demon hunting, he took on various odd jobs that were very mundane and not at all related to anything requiring a gun. Whether it was to help an old woman fix up her kitchen, babysit a couple of mean cats, or run some girl scout cookie booths to support schools, he took them all and once again not caring about the pay. He found his spirits more and more uplifted each time and the gasmasked mercenary truly was right about finding a balance in this life to keep some semblance of sanity.

Him and Winston took on multiple jobs together of course, here and there. Whether they be demon hunting or odd jobs, Winston always allowed Tony to choose the mission himself. Slowly but surely Tony found himself more comfortable accepting and providing help with finally working alongside a partner. Even Morrison was impressed by this new change of pace but he could not in the world ever be against such development.

With this newfound social acceptance, Tony made friends with the staff of Bobby’s Cellar, even the family that runs it. Turns out to him that he is a lot more entertaining and active when in the presence of others, so much so that he could barely see himself drinking alone in the bar anymore. Sure most of the other mercs still were a bit wary about him, but it was a work in progress. Eventually, Tony caught a glimpse of Winston’s cough getting a bit worse. Winston always insisted it’d get better and not to worry about it, but Tony could see through the facade.

One night though, Tony stepped in a much quieter and lonelier Cellar and it eerily reminded him of how it was before he had met Winston. Wheezy wasn't even behind the bar, only a note that read 'I'm in the back. Meet with me. - W.'

Tony didn’t say anything else and hopped over the bar, entering through the silver kitchen doors and making his way to the back of the building. There he found Winston, gasmask on, back against a brick wall. He looked almost like a phantom under the pale moonlight.

“Hey kid.” Winston weakly greeted with a heavy cough from beneath his mask.

“Dude, what’s happening?” Tony approached him but a hand held out forwards stopped him in his tracks.

“It’s... the lungs thing again.” Winston shook his head and chuckled, releasing another set of coughs. “I… I have something to say. I’m sorry that I lied for this long but it’s really not getting any better.”

“What do you mean, can’t you go to the doctors?”

“Already did. It’s too late. It’s critical and within a couple of weeks they’ll be shutting down. My dumbass pushed so many people away about it that I ended up pushing myself from it too and I never bothered to get it checked.” He admitted and tapped at the gasmask. “Even this thing was just a joke I fooled myself into believing would help.”

Tony could not believe what he was hearing and he couldn’t even find the words, anything to possibly comfort his friend.

“I… I’m sorry, kid.” Winston apologized, head lowering down. “I have to go now. I know a guy that might be able to help but I won’t know until I meet up with him.”

“Alright, so when do we leave?” Tony asked.

“There is no ‘we’ Tony. Just me. I’m going by myself.”

Tony blinked once. “What? Man, you were always there for me when I was down in the dirt. Now you’re gonna say I can’t be with you for this?”

“I’m going by myself.” Winston repeated, this time far more blunt and straightforward. “I’m sorry. It’s better off you stay here, I don’t want the Cellar to be missing both of us. Especially you, you’re the one that really sparks up the light in there now.”

“C’mon Winston--”

“My decision is final.”

Tony grinded his teeth. He knew this was his friend pushing him away again. But what could he do? He always pushed away his problems, something Tony himself can very much relate to. So he knows fully well how stubborn and selfish one like this can be. He still wanted to help, but he had to respect his friend’s wishes and be confident in him. “... Fine. I won’t tag along.”

Winston smiled underneath his mask, lightly coughing this time. “It’s better off, don’t want you catching it too.”

The two shared the smile after that. There were only few words left to be said and Winston was already walking off as Tony watched.

“Yo Winston...” Tony called out, to catch his friend’s attention. “Will we meet again?”

Winston turned his head back, to get one last look at his friend. He waved and said nothing, then continued down the road.

Tony could do nothing but watch until the silhouette of his friend disappear into the night. After that, no one heard him scream and break apart the brick wall with the force of his fist.

* * *

 

Dante hadn’t heard from his old friend since that night. He’s a man now, no longer that lonely teenager from before. But it still comes back to haunt him. So when Nero asked those same words he asked, he’s hoping he can actually fulfill it and show up one more time. He sighed and continued on down the streets, making out the shapes of Lady and Trish ahead waiting for his arrival. His mind cleared as the girls called out to him and he sighed, a grin coming across his face and as he began to run after them in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for this being a bit of a longer chapter along with the long wait. please enjoy


	4. Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dante remembers birthdays.

Shortly after the fall of the Temen-ni-gru, demon hunting jobs have been booming. However, there were only a few capable of devil hunters within the city and two specific people practically handled the entire market. Lady, having dropped out of highschool to fully commit to demon hunting and building up her experience. Then Dante and his new Devil May Cry business, which was getting calls non stop along with Morrison regaining contact with him and bringing plenty of missions. He wasn’t complaining, he needed the distraction.

After all, he had just lost Vergil.

One quiet night however, Lady stepped into the shop and not as geared out as she usually would’ve been. Dante was preoccupying himself with trying to pretend-sleep under his magazine, he lifted a page up and groaned. “C’mon Lady, don’t you got anything better to do than bother my beauty sleep?”

“Riiiight. Beauty sleep.” The dark haired hunter scoffed and planted both her hands on Dante’s desk. “C’mon, I bagged us an easy mission. Should help your debt you owe me too.”

 _That damn debt, she’ll never let it go, will she?_ Dante pondered. It was only a mere hundred dollars, he can easily pay that back. No way in hell would he have let it follow him his entire life, no sir. He logged that thought in the furthest parts of his mind and pushed the magazine away. “Sure, the debt. What’s the gig?”

“Security detail, for some real _hellish_ party. But it’s easy money, you wouldn’t even need…” Lady trailed off as her eyes went over to a large demonic blade. “Revelation.”

“Rebellion, jackass.” The half demon corrected and got up from his seat.

“Rebellion-Jackass. Got it.” Lady smirked and spun the box of pizza to face her, swiping up a slice. She then turned on her heel and went for the exit. “C’mon, I got us a ride.” She said in between munches.

Dante spun back the box and tried to reach for another slice… only to realize Lady had taken the last one. He clicked his tongue and dusted his hands off. “Why don’t I ever meet any nice girls?” He whispered to himself and threw on his red coat, as well as holstering his twin handguns behind him.

He took his time to follow the girl, but in due time both found themselves inside a taxi and on their way to a destination. The ride was quiet and Dante pretended to nap once more, but soon enough they arrived. Lady wasted no time to lead Dante into a large, newly made hotel. It’d be a shame for it to be ruined by their rather explosive tactics, but if what Lady was saying were true then Dante didn’t have much to worry about when it comes to property damage.

What Dante wasn’t expecting was a completely regular birthday party. It wasn’t for Lady, nor it was for him. Hell, he doesn’t even remember his birthday anymore. It was just a normal hotel room full of young folk around their age, plenty of alcohol and loud noise. Dante wasn’t feeling the vibe already and he gave a side eye at Lady, who pretended to look innocent as she shrugged and smiled.

“Hey, they told me it was a ‘hellish party.’ Never specified if there were demons.” Lady said matter-of-factly.

“No demons, no deal. I’m out.” Dante slid his hands in his pockets and went for the door. Lady was quick to grab his shoulder and spin him around though.

“Dude, you gotta lighten up. We’re still working, security remember?” The human girl tried to reassure him as she shook his rather limp body with her hand. “We just make sure no one on this list is allowed in and if there’s a fight, we take care of it. Don’t even worry, I know how lazy you get. So I’ll handle everything and you just sit back and chill. Easy day!”

 _Lighten up._ An old friend told him something similar, but he’s gone now. That was when he still went by Tony Redgrave. He sighed and leaned against the wall, arms crossed now. “Whatever. If you need me, I’ll be here.”

“Aww, thanks.” Lady smiled and pinched Dante’s cheek, who only returned with a roll of his eyes. “I’ll grab you a drink and some food, it'll be a long night.” She winked and walked off.

Dante huffed out a low sigh and watched as Lady walk around, mingling with the other party goers like nothing. She really was the social butterfly out of their little duo, he never wanted to interact with anyone unless it meant a job.

Lady brought Dante a drink and a plate full of pizza, to make up for stealing his last slice. A nice gesture, something rare from that girl, but Dante would never tell that to her face. She posted herself up by the door again and went to work, leaving him in his own thoughts.

He knows he wasn’t always like this, this social outcast and loner he had become, he was better before. Back as Tony, he was at least. But ever since losing his family, his friends, Nell and Vergil…. he admitted to himself he simply cannot find the drive anymore to do anything aside from fight. His mind always went back to that sight of Vergil willingly falling into the underworld.

His ice blue eyes widened just a bit at what he saw. A chocolate birthday cake. He only realized now the party was not for one person, but two. Twins, around his age. He stared right into the burning candles and the singing of the crowd was drowned out in silence. The only noise now was the cracking of the tiny specs of flame. And it all came flooding back to him like a violent typhoon.

The sound of his home burning down.

The sound of his mother screaming.

The sound of Nell bleeding out.

The sound of Vergil’s blade slicing his palm before he fell into the eternal abyss.

* * *

 

Their mother brought forth two cakes, one strawberry and one chocolate respectively. The sound of him and his brother laughing in excitement and their father enjoying a glass of tea nearby.

“Vergil, Dante. Happy birthday.”

“Wow!”

“Cool!”

He smirked deviously, knowing full well that his brother’s favorite was chocolate. “I want the chocolate!” He immediately exclaimed, surprising his entire family.

His brother was quick to deny him. “No, I want the chocolate!”

And they argued. They bickered.

It eventually ended in his brother crying and his parents intervening.

He regretted it immediately. He shouldn’t have been so hard on his brother.

All the times his brother would try to read his books, or quietly enjoy tea with their father. He would try to interrupt and make it a hassle, make everything about him.

Dante never got to apologize to Vergil for not being the best little brother.

Perhaps this is why he chose to forget his birthday.

* * *

 

“Dante?” A soft voice brought him back.

He finally blinked and the candles were already blown out. The party resumed and the music continued blasting once more. He shifted his eyes towards Lady, a look of concern on her face he hasn’t seen since he told her “it was only the rain.”

“Are you okay...?” She asked cautiously, a tone she rarely uses anymore. It was typically an insulting or smug tone from her… but this time was different.

He gathered himself up and smirked, that same red hot smirk that he always puts on. “I’m cool. Don’t worry about me.”

Lady further insisted. Dante continuously waved it off. Eventually she went back to her post and that was that.

After the party ended, their job completed. Lady hailed another taxi and offered another ride. However when she went to look for him, Dante was long gone.

He had chosen to walk home that night.


End file.
